


A True Husband

by ChibiStarr



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alqualondë, Dubious Consent, F/M, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 01:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19757461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiStarr/pseuds/ChibiStarr
Summary: A true wife would follow her husband and her people as they leave Valinor. But Nerdanel doesn't wish to.But being a true husband, Fëanáro will not let his family be torn apart so easily.





	A True Husband

Her fists pounded against his back, and perhaps to some they might have hurt, or in the very least ached, but to him he felt nothing. Fëanáro was beyond pain at this point, the fire in him burning so hot and with such fury that he felt nothing else aside from it. Every breath he took scorched his lungs and it was a wonder he was not breathing out flames like a great forge.

He would not take no for an answer anymore. Not from anyone. Not from the Noldor, not from his half-brother, not from the Valar, and _certainly_ not from his own wife.

“Fëanáro put me down!” she yelled into his ear, flailing uselessly against the bonds of his arm. His steps did not so much as falter. “How dare you! Why did you do this! Release me at once!”

He should have gagged her. She seemed to never run out of words herself, and the pounding of blood in his ears and the blood on his gloves seemed to block out everything else but her voice.

Thumping went his boots as he descended into the captain’s cabin, the ship’s timbers rattling with every step. So light the vessel was, so perfect for flying atop the waves, away from Valinor, away to a better and new life away from thraldom...

To the one who took everything from him.

Finally he was in the cabin and he slammed the door shut with his foot, still vaguely feeling Nerdanel savaging his back, but no pain associated with it. Then he threw her on the bed, and she seemed so surprised that she actually stopped and looked at him, her eyes narrowed in both suspicion and fear.

What did she see, he wondered. But it mattered little, because whatever she saw it would be clouded by the lies the Valar told her. What he truly _was_ had never changed: her husband.

She opened her mouth and he beat her to it.

“ _Be silent.”_

It was a rasp of fire sizzling against water, and he took off his gloves and left them on the floor. His naked sword, still stained with blood, he unbuckled and let it crash to the floor. She understood his intentions all too late and just as she leaped to jump out of the bed he had caught her, the bloody handprints on her dress matching his bare, pure hands as he laid them upon her and forced her back down.

He caught her screaming with a kiss, shoved her dress up to her waist and undid his breeches hastily, the fire all consuming in him without any succour except the woman in his arms.

“ _You are still my wife,”_ he hissed to her, her hair tangled in his fingers and her heat surrounding him as he forced himself into her, _“and I will take you with me whether I must drag you out of here!”_

And he reminded her of their bond over and over again, forcing his fire upon her, forcing her to _enjoy_ it, and bringing out that part that she had long forgotten existed between them.


End file.
